Make A Wish, Harry
by Musou Misora
Summary: We've heard the reactions of one of the close friends; we've seen it through the eyes of the Boy Who Lived himself. But is there someone else, someone behind the scenes, who feels the need to give voice to his soul? Last chapter.
1. Make A Wish, Harry

Make a Wish, Harry

*****************

He was there.

Out there.

Waiting.

Watching the tall house outside the village.

Waiting...for me.

I knew he was there. In all the summers I've spent here, every one of them had been peaceful, a great blanket of contentment hanging in the air. Whenever I visited, I slept well and felt loved and protected. But now...now, this summer, he was there.

Out _there_.

Biding his time.

Four weeks I'd been here. Four weeks of lazy, blissful, euphoric happiness. Four weeks of playing one-on-one Quidditch games with my best friend, and him teaching me to play a decent game of chess. Four weeks of carefully guarding what I said to everyone. Four weeks of concealment charms in my face, so no one could tell I hadn't slept at all. Four weeks of knowing that, at any moment, the deadliest Dark Lord the wizarding world had ever known could swoop down and kill us all.

Four weeks of watching him through the bedroom window. Watching him stand out in the middle of the open field behind the house. A sinister grin was always on his pale, twisted face, but, after four weeks, signs of impatience were beginning to show.

But he knew, and I knew, that the moment would come...soon.

*************

It was exactly one half hour until my seventeenth birthday. All my friends from school were there, and the family, in the small living room that still seated all twenty or so of us comfortably. All were peacefully slumbering, thanks to the slow-acting sleeping draught I'd mixed into the drinks.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to the Weasleys. "Thank you, for everything."

I turned and looked at each of my friends' faces. "Have a good seventh year, all of you. I hope your lives are lived to the fullest. Even though mine was so short, I know I've accomplished exactly what I was meant to do."

As I walked out the back door, I paused to gaze at them one last time. Finally, I'd be paying back all the people who had protected my, or tried to, for so long.

"Good bye."

It was now exactly ten minutes before midnight. He was already there, grinning manically, watching my every move through blood red eyes. I stopped walking about ten yards away from him, making room for what I knew would occur in mere minutes. I gazed solemnly at the man whom had haunted me since I was conceived. He simply stared back at me.

Then I broke the gaze and glanced at my watch.

11:59:50.

He pulled his wand forth from his robes slowly. He raised it high above his head, and he whispered two, unintelligible words. Suddenly, great lights sparked in a circle around us.

Seventeen great bonfires surrounding us.

Five seconds left.

I took out my own wand. I held it tight in my fist, and...

I smiled.

It was over.

Two seconds.

We both pointed our wands at each other, readying ourselves for the backlash from Priori Incantatem. My smile remained on my face, and I thought my last thoughts, perceiving the brightly flickering bonfires. Seventeenth summer.

Midnight.

_Make a wish, Harry..._

*****************

End.

Please review!!!!!

---Misora

P.S. Sorry to all those who try to hold true to the books. I generally try to as well, but the words from the first movie kept echoing in my head. (You know, right before Hagrid shows up? When Harry's lying on the floor, tracing a cake in the dirt? I always thought that image was so depressing...anyways...) Hope you enjoyed it anyway!


	2. No Greater Love

No Greater Love

*************

"…This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends…"

-John 15: 12-13-

*************

There were scorch-marks on the field. Large ones, perfectly circular. They even made their own, corporate circle.

Seventeen burned portions of grass and weeds.

Seventeen.

I have often wondered if Harry felt different…older…before the end. I knew he would have realised the special significance of this particular birthday. Seventeen. The age when a wizard completes his education…and the age when he comes into his full power.

Did he know? Is that why he was able to defeat Voldemort?

**************

I remember waking up the morning after Harry's birthday party. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had invited all the soon-to-be Gryffindor seventh years to celebrate, not to mention a few of Harry's friends in other houses. I remember feeling groggy…disoriented, dizzy really. I know I must have looked at each person in turn, because I remember thinking to myself: _Why are they still here?_

No one had planned on staying over, except Harry and me. But we had been at the Burrow for four whole weeks before this. I was struck dumb for a moment. _Four weeks._

Where had I heard that recently? Oh, yes…

Two days before the party, at around three A.M., I had gone to get a glass of water. As I walked back to the room I had been sharing with Ginny Weasley, I noticed a solitary figure standing in front of a window.

It was Harry…staring out into the empty fields behind the house.

_"Four weeks," he whispered. "After waiting sixteen years, you grow impatient over a trifle of four weeks."_

I had been too tired to approach him, and I returned to my bed sluggishly.

That morning, when all of us woke up in the living room, after I had assessed the situation in my early-morning frame of mind, I looked at Ron. He looked at me in return, confusion etched deeply into his handsome features.

"Sleeping draught," spat Mrs. Weasley. "Who on earth could have gotten this into the drinks without us knowing? And who would want to?"

No one answered her, for no one in the room had such a reply. Ginny stood from her seat and glanced around.

"Where's Harry?" she asked timidly.

My eyes and Ron's eyes snapped over at her and then back at each other.

"No," Ron whispered, horrified expressions creeping onto both our faces. "NO!"

They never did find either body.

***************

Five years later, I returned to the field behind the abandoned old house for the first time since that dreadful morning. The grass never recovered from the damage inflicted upon it, so the scorch-marks remained as a reminder for us all.

My eyes scanned the sight, dry and emotionless. I remembered everything so vividly, recalled it so often in my mind that it became like a photograph through time. I walked out into the centre of the circle and stood there for what seemed like hours.

Finally, I had had enough. Too many memories were imbedded in this field…

I turned around and began to walk back. I looked in front of me…and there was a man, about my age walking slowly in my direction. He waved hello to me cheerfully, and I stopped, not wanting to seem rude.

"Good morning, miss," he greeted. A lopsided grin graced his face. His hair reminded me somewhat of Harry's, all tufts sticking out at odd angles. His eyes were crystal blue, and he wore no glasses, but…

"Good morning," I replied. "I'm sorry, but you look amazingly alike to someone I once knew."

He chuckled. "You wouldn't believe the amount of people who say that to me. Most of them are odd birds, wearing cloaks and the like, but they seem nice enough."

I nodded, understanding perfectly. People from the wizarding world would easily mistake this man for…_Harry_. I gulped.

"May I ask for your name?" I inquired. He smiled warmly at me, and he began to walk past me, into the circle.

"It's James," replied the man, chuckling once again. "I'm terribly sorry, but I have to be going. Here, I'd like to give you this." He handed a small piece of paper to me. "It was nice talking with you, Hermione."

He waved to me, and I waved back. I looked at the scrap of paper he had pressed into my palm.

_'No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends'. Hmm, it's a nice saying._

I had already reached my Muggle car when a serious thought hit me with the force of the Cruciatus curse.

_How did he know my name?_

****************

End

****************


	3. What the Light Never Gave

***  
  
I was gasping for air, I knew. I could hear the short breaths escaping my lips to mingle with the thousand other breaths out there, in the atmosphere. I imagined I could see them swirling together, two passing by each other, caressing the other...  
  
What confused me was that I could not *feel* myself heaving precious life into other people's bodies, far away from the carnage that had, mere seconds ago, just finished. I, and my rival, leaving behind all inhibitions, forgetting the scraps of humanity we two had barely managed to keep alive all these years.  
  
He, living off others in desperate attempts to attain a body of his own.  
  
Me, realising that, if I was to accomplish what I knew must be done, I must leave my morals behind.  
  
There was no room in this fight for convictions of any sort. He even smirked approvingly upon learning I had drugged my own friends and adopted family so they wouldn't be able to follow me.  
  
'You have the makings of a fine Dark Wizard...it's too bad you had to grow up under the influence of such a weak man...'  
  
At that, I smiled at him, effectively putting him on his guard.  
  
'What makes you think I have not privately studied Dark Magic?'  
  
And so we fought - no, we played a game. We had made the rules only last year, right after he had told me of his desire to finish this...on my seventeenth birthday.  
  
Midnight.  
  
We played by our rules - in the light of the seventeen bonfires lit around us, their flames leaping about wildly as magic spells and energy clashed within the circle. He was impressed with my knowledge of the Dark Arts, as well as my proficiency in using them.  
  
'They will not save you, boy. You forget that I am *made* of Darkness...'  
  
And he forgot that his Darkness was also my Darkness.  
  
He did not realise...  
  
...that I had become Darkness as well...  
  
...if only to defeat him.  
  
I had foolishly let the blackness within me loose, not knowing that I could never, ever return to the way things had been. I realised that as we played our game without tiring.  
  
I could never return to *them*.  
  
...to hell with them. I love them, but they could never understand...  
  
This was too much fun.  
  
***

Though the light never gave me this much freedom, I knew I had to be redeemed...

***  
  
I ran from the circle after making sure his ashes were scattered to the four winds along with the breath I could not feel escaping my body. I ran until my legs burned; I continued running long after that. The forest behind the old, toppling house was deep and never-ending, it seemed.  
  
Hours after I began running, I came across a tiny village that time seemed to have forgotten. It was a wizard village, no doubt about it, but there seemed to be a large amount of Muggles also inhabiting the area. The two worlds, magical and non-magical, coincided here and remained peaceful.  
  
Employing my knowledge of dark spells, I disguised myself by turning my hair a dark brown, lighter than it had been, and changing my eye color to blue. My glasses had disappeared sometime last night, but I could see well enough to get by. As confidently as I could, as the clothes I was wearing were mere rags by now, I strode into the tiny village and glanced about.  
  
'*Accio money*,' I muttered. A few minutes later, my bag filled with wizard gold was in my hands. I looked around for an inn of some sort, but found none.  
  
I felt a tugging at my ragged shirt tails. A small witch, no older than two or three, was holding onto me, smiling up into my bewildered face.  
  
'I no place either,' she whispered, trying to make me understand her uneducated assertion. 'Look with me?'  
  
I hesitated, then smiled. Squatting down closer to her level, I nodded slowly.  
  
'My name's James,' I said suddenly. 'Do you have a name?' She shook her head quickly.  
  
'What's a name?'  
  
'It's something that people call you so they can...know who you are, all the time.'  
  
She cocked her little head to one side, and I noticed for the first time the dirt that covered her face and arms and legs. Her reddish hair was matted and knotted. 'Where are your parents?'  
  
'What are parents?'  
  
I was silent for a moment...and then another...and yet another. She awaited my answer patiently, somehow knowing that I would answer her question as best I could. Toddlers were quite perceptive, it seemed. But how could I answer when I had no idea myself?  
  
My smile grew larger. 'I don't know, little one. I never had any, really. Would you like to come with me? We could find out together.'  
  
She blinked, then returned my smile with a tiny giggle. I stood and drew her hand into mine. 'You need a name first.' She brightened. Though she could not comprehend what a name was, exactly, she grasped the importance of it. 'Hmm, could we call you...Elizabeth?'  
  
She stuck her tongue out. 'No, I suppose not...what about...Rose?' She shook her head no. I himmed and hawed over the possibilities before coming to a conclusion.  
  
'Would you like to be called Lily?'  
  
She smiled and hugged my leg. 'Yes!'  
  
'Alright,' I said. 'Your name is Lily. Now, Lily, what should we do first?'  
  
***  
  
I kept my disguise up for five years, taking it off every once and a while to show Lily what I really looked like. We snuck into Diagon Alley every so often; once, we bought her a wand so I could begin her magical learning, and several other times to draw more money from my account. There seemed to be no end to my vault in Gringotts, but I knew I couldn't rely on that forever.  
  
About eight years after the game, three years after the meeting with Hermione in the field, I came across an advertisement in the Daily Prophet. It was posted by one Albus Dumbledore, and he was looking for a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I smirked. The curse seemed to have stayed on the position, sadly. Lily was playing on her intermediate broomstick, giggling softly as she made loop-the-loops in the open field behind the house we stayed at.  
  
We never stayed in one place more than a few months. I was barely twenty-four, and we estimated her age to be about eleven. Perhaps it was time for her to join children her own age. Of course, it would be difficult to enroll her as a Hogwarts first-year; I had already taught her as high as fifth-year material. I sighed and looked at the black-ink words on the page.  
  
Position open as DADA teacher at Hogwarts. Pay negotiable. Address resumes to Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster.  
  
Lily deserved children her own age. I knew more than enough about that...  
  
'What's wrong, James?' she asked, hovering slightly off the floor.  
  
'Nothing. Did you finish packing yet?'  
  
She shook her head. 'No, not yet.'  
  
'Good. Hold off for a while. I have to write to someone about a job interview.'  
  
Lily glanced at me in a confused manner. 'Why do you need a job?'  
  
'Well, we can't rely on my account forever, can we? And besides, if I get this job, we can live at Hogwarts, and you can make friends!'  
  
Her blue eyes brightened considerably. That was that. One James Evans would offer his services as professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
  
***  
  
Dear Mr. Evans,  
  
I have received your credentials, marked specifically confidential, and am definitely impressed. If it is not too much trouble, I would like to hold an interview as soon as possible. You may bring your sister with you, if you like.  
Please be at my office at nine o'clock on the morning of July the fifteenth, if you so choose to meet me.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
Yes, that was that.  
  
Hmm, I'd forgotten that Hermione was teaching there...  
  
All the better.  
  
***  
Fin  
***


	4. If I look Deep Enough

*runs around in circles screaming bloody murder*

Umm, sorry; I needed to get that out...anyways, this is the VERY LAST chapter of this story. It's also my first story with slash included...*hides* It was the only way! Now, I'm horrible at writing romance, let alone slash, so PLEASE bear with me. It's not too bad, but it's there.

I _really_ hope my parents never find this...anyway, read on, and REVIEW!

***

If I Look Deep Enough

***

I knew it was him. Who else could have made Dumbledore beam so heartily, when he hadn't so much as smiled once in the past eight years? 

It had been hard for everyone to acknowledge the fact that he had tricked us all and run off to his likely death. Granger and Weasley were the worst, absolutely stunned into shock and agony over their best friend's lack of self concern. From the vague details the two Gryffindors could give us, all of us had deduced that he had been planning this for weeks.

He always had been a devious son of a bitch…wonder why he was never placed in Slytherin…

And then _James Evans_ showed up with his little sister, Lily. Dumbledore introduced him to the staff as the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. Lily was only ten years old, but we were to welcome her into our lectures if she were ever to appear. Apparently, she could perform more magic than most fifth years.

Even though Harry had told me (secretly, mind you) all about his parents, it was not the names that gave him away. It was his eyes.

Damn him. How could he defile his beautiful eyes with such a colour as blue? It was almost sacrilegious…

But then, he never did find out that I felt that way about him, now did he? And now, after eight years of nightmares of which no Dreamless Sleep potion could rid me, my nights were peaceful…

I couldn't bear to talk with him. We exchanged pleasantries for the first few weeks of the school year. He was secretly amused at how I treated my Potions classes; I was far fairer than Snape had ever been. I had decided from the beginning of my career that that was no way for students to learn competently.

Yes, these were the changes wrought in me by a year of secret friendship with him. And then he had to go and disappear.

His 'sister' was a giggling, happy ten-year-old girl. Within three hours of the new school year, she'd made friends with nearly all the first year students, and some of the second years as well. Her aptitude for magic amazed us all; not only was she more competent than most of the fifth years, but she could also perform N.E.W.T. level spells.

"I was wondering, Draco," he began saying one day while we were quietly working on correcting essays. I began to sweat immediately. I absolutely hated the effect he had on me. "Lily has never gotten the hang of potion-making. I'm quite inept at it." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. _I REMEMBER!_ I wanted to scream. I nodded, not really looking up from the third-year essays that were currently driving me insane.

"Could you give her some lessons? She thinks it fascinating, loves watching your classes at work."

"I suppose so, Ha-James!" I rectified my mistake as quickly as possible, but it was too late, for him at least. No one else was in the room.

My face burned red as I felt his eyes turn to me and widen in surprise.

"How---how long have you known?" he asked hoarsely, sounding horrified.

"Since Dumbledore introduced you," I muttered sadly. "I won't tell anyone, if you don't want me to…"

"Please, don't!" he exclaimed. He heaved a sigh of relief. "I'm not ready to listen to everyone yelling at me…you're not going to yell, are you?"

I laughed suddenly. His completely horrified face was hysterical to look at. "Of course not!" I gasped in between chuckles. "Why on earth would I do something like that? Besides the satisfaction of watching Granger smack you upside the head repeatedly, I mean."

Harry scowled menacingly at me, but amusement was clearly etched in his horribly blue eyes. He sighed dramatically. "You always did enjoy watching me suffer, Draco."

No, I enjoyed watching you smile. "But I will give Lily the lessons, if you wish," I said. He nodded happily.

"And don't think you can use this as blackmail, Malfoy!"

I placed a hand over my heart. "I, blackmail you?" I inquired innocently. "Perish the thought!"

In the weeks after this discussion, it became easier to speak with him. He often accompanied Lily to her Potions lessons, and made snide little comments about my teaching abilities. This ended up in more than several arguments between the two of us, as Lily looked on, laughing.

Being with him became the highlight of my day. I found myself searching him out if he didn't come to the Teachers' Lounge after supper, or if he happened to miss a meal. He managed to trick me into walking with him on nice evenings (not that I put up much of a resistance). Lily often ran out to find us and tell us about the things she and her friends were doing. Harry gave her permission a few times to go into Hogsmeade by herself and buy chocolates and pranks.

"Isn't she a little young to be going on her own?" I asked one winter's eve. He shrugged.

"She knows more magic than I did when I was ten."

"You didn't even know about Hogwarts when you were ten."

"Sod off, Malfoy…"

I was beginning to feel like I had in sixth year, just after a skinny Gryffindor with black hair and green eyes had walked up to me and silently offered his hand to me: carefree, feeling more innocent than I had since I was five years old. I bantered back and forth with the one I loved.

One such night, as Harry, Lily, and I were walking the grounds, Harry remembered he had promised Professor Sprout to pick something up in the village. He bid his sister and me wait for him and sprinted off in its general direction. Lily asked me questions about Veritaserum, the potion we had just begun to study.

"Professor," she said suddenly after a short silence. "How do you know my brother? He never really explained it."

"I went to school with him," I replied simply. "We hated each other up until our sixth year, when we realised we were being stupid. We knew none of our friends could ever truly understand, so we kept it a secret. And then he disappeared right before seventh year…"

Lily nodded, and we were silent once more. The little girl suddenly became uncomfortable once more.

"He talked a lot about you," said Lily. I looked sharply at her. She shrugged in return. "He told me all about how you offered friendship before first year, and he refused it. He said he'd felt horrible, and wanted to make it up to you." She shrugged again. "He had a very high opinion of you, still does."

"Lily," I began nervously, "how did you meet Harry?"

She blinked. "He came out of the woods one day and wandered into the village I stayed at. I was only two; we guessed my parents either died and no one knew or cared, or they just abandoned me. Either way, I was lost and so was he. I wanted to know what a name was, and what parents were, but he didn't know. So we travelled around for weeks and watched people. He bought me my wand when I was four and taught me magic; he taught me how to fly and how to identify plants and things. He told me about Voldemort and his parents and the Death Eaters."

Lily looked straight up at me. "But, like I said, he talked most about you."

I couldn't speak. Lily nodded, understanding, and left me to find Harry. I wandered into the lounge about an hour later. My eyes were red and teary, something I tried to hide. No matter what the circumstances, I was still a Malfoy, and had to uphold some semblance of dignity.

Harry was there, waiting for me. I sat down next to him, but we didn't speak for several minutes. Finally, all he did was touch my hand gently.

***

Fin

***

*Wow. Umm, was that any good? I mean, it _is_ my first slash story…

Don't forget to review!

BTW, here are the lyrics I based this story off, just in case you were wondering.

***

_You don't remember me, but I remember you;   
I lie awake and try so hard not to think of you.  
But who can decide what they dream?  
And dream I do...  
  
I believe in you:   
I'll give up everything just to find you.  
I have to be with you to live, to breathe:   
You're taking over me._

_  
Have you forgotten all I know  
and all we had?  
You saw me mourning my love for you  
and touched my hand;   
I knew you loved me then.  
  
I believe in you:   
I'll give up everything just to find you.  
I have to be with you to live, to breathe:_

_You're taking over me.  
  
I look in the mirror and see your face.  
If I look deep enough  
so many things inside that are just like you are taking over…_

_~Evanescence~_

***

REVIEW, SIL-VOUS PLAIT!


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